“These are my private gardens,” I said. “You have no right to be here.”

“True.” He ran a finger down the shiny surface of the piano. “But there isn’t much you can do about it, is there?”

“What do you want?”

The corners of his mouth twisted up in a cold parody of a smile. “A great many things, Cécile, and I fully intend to have them.” He picked up the delicate glass rose Tristan had given me, turning it over in his hands. “You caused quite the disturbance yesterday.”

“That was your intention, wasn’t it?”

“Indeed it was, although not in my wildest dreams did I expect it to turn out so well.” He held up my rose as if to smell it, but his eyes were fixed on me. “Did you know that when an infant is born of half troll, half human blood, its magic never reaches half that of its troll parent? And if that child takes up with a human, the resultant child will have almost no magic to speak of. The fact of the matter is, if a child has less than one-eighth troll blood, it has no magic at all. It is as weak and unintelligent as a human, as susceptible to illness and injury.”

I was silent. There was no mistaking his point.

“Magic,” he continued, “is what makes us superior. Any act that diminishes it is an abomination.”

“Except if such an act breaks the curse,” I retorted, my anger rising. “Isn’t that what you mean?”

“But it hasn’t.” He held out the rose. “So all you are is an abomination that has failed to serve any purpose.”

The rose slipped through his fingers. I gasped, diving forward to catch it before it smashed against the paving stones. At my touch, it blossomed a dusky pink.

“You two thought you’d fooled everyone, didn’t you?”

I stared up at him from my knees, fear filling me.

“And perhaps you did. Everyone, that is, except me.” Reaching down, he took hold of my arm and pulled me to my feet. “I confess, you played the part of a hellion-bride quite well. And Tristan, well the boy has been playing something he is not for so long that sometimes I wonder if he remembers who he really is.” He paused, considering his words. “You would know by now that all children receive an identical education until they are ten years of age, at which time they are educated by their respective guilds. Builders’ Guild, Artisans’ Guild, Bakers’ Guild, Miners’ Guild, and so on and so forth.”

“Make your point, Your Grace.” I tried to jerk my arm out of his grip, but his hand was as implacable as a vice.

“My daughter, Anaïs, she isn’t guild-educated. No, I saw early in her life that she had a mind fit for a particular purpose. She is military educated, you see. She is strategic, ruthless, loyal, but…” He sighed. “She is still female – her emotions make her weak.”